


On The Front

by fluorescentmythicalbeastie



Series: Fantastic Beasts Fanfiction [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War I, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 03:19:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9473111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluorescentmythicalbeastie/pseuds/fluorescentmythicalbeastie
Summary: Newt Scamander comes to terms with his love for a particular dragon on the Eastern Front.





	

“Easy, girl, easy…” Corporal Scamander cooed gently, his bare hands trailing across the dragon’s heated scales. The wind whipped his coat and heavy snowflakes fell from the sky in increasing number, but Newt paid no mind to the icy conditions. Sprawled in front of him, chained by the wings, was a glorious Ukrainian Ironbelly. She snorted and huffed—agitated, to say the least. Corporal Scamander took soft steps around the mound of her body, talking in quiet tones to calm her. Other soldiers stood at bay, their wants aloft. It had taken the entire morning for them to chain the beautiful dragon. Despite Corporal Scamander’s best attempts, they refused to let her be free. As she was bound to the ground, she released torrents of furious fire, scorching a number of men in the platoon. She was the biggest dragon on the Eastern Front. She’d be the most terrifying creature to take flight in the war, but she would also be treated the worst. 

Scamander’s boots crunched against the thick snow as he reached the dragon’s head. Her official name was UI12, but Scamander couldn’t bring himself to label her as a number—a weapon.  
“Hey, pretty girl…” Scamander whispered, coming into her view. Her gleaming yellow eyes locked on him. An instinctive, warning trill escaped her jaws. Scamander stopped moving, lowering himself to his knees. The cold earth pressed against his worn trousers and the wind stung his cheeks. Despite the warmth it provided to his head, Scamander slowly removed his helmet. He let it hit the ground with a satisfying clink, hoping that the dragon wouldn’t view him as a soldier. Her eyes locked with his. 

Corporal Scamander had been offered a job training dragons while at his post for the Ministry of Magic. He was a creature buff and absolutely adored the idea of working with dragons for one of the first times. However, a warzone wasn’t the most ideal places The dragons were trained to be aggressive. They were spat at, cursed at and punished when they didn’t perform. It was torture for Corporal Scamander to watch. He was different than the rest. He was a corporal—the lowest ranking officer—and yet, he still had the most power over the dragons. In that moment, staring at the largest dragon he had ever seen, he was reminded of all those little times that he promised himself to always do the right thing.  
“Scamander, get the hell out of there!” Scamander’s platoon leader, Lieutenant Dorris, shouted. Scamander ignored him completely. Instead, he crept to the very nose of the Ukrainian Ironbelly. The dragon’s breath was scorching hot and melted the frost clinging to Scamander’s unruly hair. His face was dirty from explosions of mud and dirt, his hair hung in a limp, knotted mop over his forehead and continued in a curly wave down the back of his head (his haircuts consisted mostly of taking his field knife and hacking away at the back of his head). Still, he felt no exhaustion. His eyes clung to the dragon’s gaze. He could feel the desperation in her movements. She wanted to be freed… she _needed_ to be freed. 

There was nothing he could do. In plain sight, he would never be able to free her from her chains. His hands trailed around her snout, giving the gleaming dragon one last look before backing up, answering the urging from his fellow platoon mates. When Scamander was within reach, many of the soldiers gripped him by the arms and threw him backwards into the nearest snowbank. The cold snow bit at his bare hands and head. The other wizards jeered and told him to “bugger off”, but it only added to the fury rising within Scamander’s gut. He lifted his red face from the snow, peering over his shoulder at the dragon. She continued to look at him in an unblinking gaze. The attention of the unit of soldiers rested on the dragon. Maybe there was something Scamander could do…

“ _FLY!_ ” the word burst forth from his lungs like a cannon. 

Seemingly waiting for this cue, the Ukrainian Ironbelly slammed against the chains with every ounce of her enormous strength. They snapped helplessly, unraveling from her body. Screams filled the air as terrified men took cover from the ensuing balls of flame. Everyone forgot about Corporal Scamander in the shadow of the aggressive, yet majestic, dragon. Scamander stood at attention, watching her with gleaming eyes. He could get dishonorably discharged for this. His war hero of a brother would be absolutely appalled, but Scamander knew it was the right thing to do. He wasn’t a puppet on a set of strings. He was Newton—Newt—Artemis Fido Scamander, the magizoologist. The dragon rose through the sky and dove out of sight.


End file.
